So Much for Personal Space
by DragonStorm85
Summary: One-shot. You'd be surprised how much could fit into a tiny, little cot. Because out on the battlefield, space wasn't a luxury anyone could afford.


**Character(s)**: Tenten, Sabaku no Gaara  
**Pairing(s)**: A bit of Gaara/Tenten  
**Warning(s)**: None.  
**Disclaimer**: I own nothing but these words.  
**Note**: Short and randomly written fic/drabble inspired by the pretendy fun tymes I occasionally have with **indigodawn** on LJ.  
**Dedicated to**: **indigodawn** on LJ

He was like a ghost, pale skin against the glow of the moonlight. And in her half-waken dream, he was beautiful. But then, Gaara always seemed so magnificent in the desert. Even when it burned with death and bloodshed. Especially so. But in that instance, he just looked worn and weary and exhausted. And rightly so. It wasn't every day that anyone faced up against one free-roaming bijuu, let alone three. A well deserved rest was only natural, even for someone who rarely ever slept.

Such a shame that his standard issued cot was already occupied.

Not once stopping to check, the young Kazekage stretched and quietly - wordlessly - slipped under the covers, shifting a little to get more comfortable. It was only after he settled in that he finally took notice of her.

She laid there, still and unmoving as their eyes met. But despite finding herself suddenly in the same bed as the once murderous sand shinobi, Tenten had remained relatively calm. Her eyes were watchful, if not tired around the edges. But there was no fear or shock. Only a mild sort of acknowledgment. Her body mapped out a similar conclusion, slumped on her side and curled slightly towards him as she took up the other half of the already too small cot. And maybe that was why her reaction seemed so subdued. Or at least a factor to it.

Breathing out softly in an unsteady breath, she struggled to find the words - any words - to say in that moment. "Um... hi..."

He had said it was okay - had insisted upon it only once before she resigned herself to give in to the temptation. Because Gaara was as practical and pragmatic as she was. And his argument had been valid at the time. Even after the Shukaku spirit had been stripped from his body, Gaara hardly ever slept. And so, the bed would be left unused for the majority of the war. It also was a pointless endeavour for her to shuffle all the way through the campsite to her shared tent with Team Gai every night when her shift as his guard ended, only to make the same trek back the next day to take up her position once more.

It was time wasted. It was time that needed to be spent watching the shadows that followed after him. And his cot was so much more sturdy and comfortable than her own sleeping bag draped over hard rocks and unforgiving twigs.

Now, in that moment, though, she would've given anything to be tucked uncomfortably inside the warm folds of that bag.

Still, he hadn't moved from his spot. Still his eyes searched deeply into her dark pools in an unwavering stare until her own mind thought to make the first move and slip away. "...I'm sorry. I'll go."

"No..." His voice soft, yet still as commanding as the position he held over all the regiments, her body could not help but automatically pause on instinct. The war had been raging on for months now, with a majority of it spent by his side and following his orders without question. Already halfway out by the time she heard the quiet murmur of his voice in the darkness, she waited patiently for his next command with a heavy weight in her chest. "...Stay."

Glancing at him over her shoulder, she hesitated, finding reservation in the idea of lingering in the same sparse bit of space and disturbing his own rare moment of rest. "Are you..."

"We've shared a bed, before." His tone wasn't exactly sharp, but there was an edge to it that made the decision final. Even if it hadn't been hers. More tired than she ever remembered seeing him in the months since the fighting began, Tenten knew there would be no room for argument. And so, with a soft and exhausted sigh, the kunoichi conceded to her fate and slid back into bed, taking up her spot once more, mindful of what little space he had left to himself.

In the morning, the young weapon mistress will find all her efforts to be in vain as she felt the hard press of his body against her own, the soft breeze of his breath rolling along her neck and his arms tightly tucked around her waist. Her own arms will have found their way to his back, almost cradling his head to the warmth of her chest in a soundless slumber. For now, though, Tenten is content with the little strip of space that still remained between their forms. Night was upon them, and the extra heat of another body is a welcomed comfort in the desert chill.


End file.
